


Resistance

by shortcircuitify



Category: Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi - Fandom, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Politics, Relatively Slow, Romance, Slow Burn, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-02-15 22:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortcircuitify/pseuds/shortcircuitify
Summary: "Please?""On one condition."





	1. Chapter 1

“Please?”

“On one condition,” she sees him swallow, eyes flicker to her own, almost as surprised as her at her response.

He is silent, hand still outstretched, and she takes it as acceptance.

“The Rebels,” his eyes flicker dangerously, “They go free.”

“ _No,”_ his response is immediate, already retreating from her, hand gripped into a tight fist, and she knows under all of Kylo Ren, there is still a scared Ben Solo.

“Ben,” he stops at her voice, softer than before, “I – they need to be _safe.”_

She reaches this time, before he can pull away from her completely, before this moment is over and the First Order crushes all of the hope of the galaxy.

She thinks of Ben’s words – that, perhaps, this way she will not be a nobody, because maybe this way, she can shape the future of the galaxy. She sees it within him, the light, the softness that was in his eyes when their hands touched that first time, and if he were to become the Supreme Leader, the dark speaking to him even with the death of Snoke, then perhaps she can be the light at his side. Save the rebels – the whole universe – by softening the darkness of Kylo’s heart.

 _You think too highly of yourself,_ the darkness crawling at the back of her mind whispers.

But it’s worth a shot. His glove is rough against her hand, but it stops him, and he waits.

“They’ve already sent distress signals and no one has come to their aid,” she lies between her teeth, “they have no where to run. Grant them safety and my answer is yes.”

He pauses, searching her eyes, for what, she is not sure.

“Please.”

And it is enough for him.

\--

They marry on a nameless planet on the outer rims. It is red and white and black, and so sterile she is scared to breath. She feels like she is suffocating, rows upon rows of commanders and startroopers lined in front of her, her hand in Ben’s. It is, thank the Force, gloveless, and the roughness of his palm soothes her, if only slightly.

General Hux stands to Ben’s side, lips puckered and brows furrowed in distaste. Finn stands to hers, after countless hours of fighting and screaming and Kylo destroying half of their assigned rooms in the horrible palace that he calls home.

But the rebels are safe, and that is all that matters.

Finn turns to look at her, the hesitation still clear on his face even though she already told him, time and again, that this was fine, it would work, all part of the plan.

He turns back towards the crowd, slides his hand into Rose’s and gives it a squeeze. She doesn’t dare look at Rey, betrayed to no end by Rey turning them over to the First Order, the men and women who killed her sister without hesitation. Rey is surprised Finn coaxed her here at all, let alone in front of thousands of faceless soldiers. The morning sun stings Rey’s eyes, but she dares not show any hesitation in this moment.

The rebels are here too, indoctrinated to the Order at Kylo’s commands, his anger thrown into every word as he commanded the retreat from the rebel base, their lives to trade for their loyalty. Rey does not remember the look on Leia’s face as they did so – perhaps she did not look at the Princess at all, too ashamed.

The rebels, they stand at the back of the giant crowd. Rey can imagine their disgusted faces, their betrayal written into their features, the hate radiating all the way to her, in her dress that is a little too white, a little too blinding, a little too controlled.

The clergy begins his sermon, words droning and meaningless, they feel grating against Rey’s ears.

 _You will help. You will help him see the light. You will help,_ she chants, over and over in her head, and then Ben is turning to her, and she to him, their hands intertwined.

His hand is warm. The ring is cold as he slides it onto her finger. It is a simple band, at least, of pure gold.

“You may now kiss the bride!” The clergyman exclaims, hands raised to the air as he addresses the crowd, specifically Ben and Rey.

Everyone holds their breath, Rey flicks her eyes to Ben’s, and for a moment there is a clarity that surprises her, none of the haziness that clouds his vision when he goes into his rages. It makes her breath stutter in her chest.

He raises her hand to his lips, kissing the cool ring on her hand, and the crowd claps in polite anonymity.

\--

“It was a… ceremony,” Finn says, eyes flickering back and forth in case there are hidden spies listening to their conversation.

The reception is in full swing, wide smiles and bodies mingling, Ben off somewhere discussing taking over the galaxy, probably. The rebels have their own table, hidden in a far-off corner of the incredibly vast hall, not that they mind. Rey joins them, but she can sense their hesitation, the way they avoid her gaze, and the way Finn never does.

Rose is gone, probably to the rooms Ben assigned them, unable to face any of them now.

“Thank you for being there,” Rey says, calmly, arms folded at her sides.

“I know I’ve already asked, a thousand times probably, but are you _sure_ about this?”

Rey swallows thickly, “Yes,” but her answer is not strong, and she pulls Finn even farther from the prying eyes of nearby commanders, thirsty for any bit of gossip they can hear, “Luke didn’t teach me much, or maybe he did, but the point is there is a balance to the Force. There is dark in Kylo, but there’s a lightness still in Ben, I can _feel_ it, as crazy as it sounds. It’s there. And if he truly wishes to be ‘Supreme Leader’”, she emphasizes the title with quotations that at least make Finn smile. It’s a start, “Then maybe… maybe I can balance out that darkness.”

Finn nods his head, and although she knows he isn’t completely convinced, he trusts her, his eyes soft, “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

She feels tears prick her eyes, bites her lip to keep it from wobbling, “Thank you.”

Finn engulfs her in a hug, “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here for you. We’re here for you,” he turns her to the rebels in behind her, and now, although she sees hesitation in their eyes, there it is too – a little bit of hope, “This is just our next great plan – work our way from the inside, right?”

Finn winks, and Rey turns again to the rebels, her eyes catching Leia’s. They stare at each other a moment, before the Princess waves her over with her hand. Her eyes are sharp, still, after everything that has happened to her, to all of them.

“I guess I should call you daughter, now,” Leia smirks, and Rey is surprised by the warmth of it, the lack of cold hate she was sure to receive.

“I’ve never really thought of that.”

Leia chuckles, “I guess you have to now. You’re a princess in and of yourself,” Leia looks at her, truly does, deep into her soul and Rey feels the Force tingling in her fingertips, “Although you were before you married my son. I guess this means I’ll be closer to him now than he’ll like.”

“I will get us out of this, I promise.”

Leia took Rey’s hands in her own, squeezing them gently. She raised one of her eyebrows, a small smirk on her lips, “I know you will, but don’t rule out all of your options just yet.” And she leaves it at that, rising from her seat and disappearing far into the crowd.

Rey spots Ben across the crowd, his features sharp and tight as a Sergeant speaks at him, his features showing his distaste.

And then, like all those moments on Ahch-To, he feels her gaze, and turns to her. She sees it in his face, how his mouth relaxes, eyes brightening as he sees her, excusing himself and pushing through the crowd to approach her. She feels heat flush her cheeks, as he asks her for a dance. She tries to ignore his gaze the rest of the night, as they dance and he parades them around, as if they were truly married, but it is incredibly hard, with the feel of his gloveless hand on her arm.

\--

He stands outside of her rooms, her back to her door, waiting. They stand for a moment, staring at each other, perhaps sizing each other up, and Rey admits that Ben looks handsome in the suit he chose. Her dress has been itching since the morn.

“Well.”

“Well.”

There is another pause, Ben staring at her as if expecting something, waiting for something more, but she is not certain for what. Again, he searches her eyes, almost incessantly, and when what he is looking for is not there, he puts his hands behind his back, awkwardly, and bows to her.

“…Have a good night,” he finally says, softly, turning from her to walk back to his own rooms.

She stays there, a moment, leaning against the door to her rooms, and a moment too late whispers back, “You as well.”

Her rooms feel as cold as the rest of the planet and palace, but the days she has already spent there, she has put her own touch on things. It makes it feel less unbearable than it once did, to be trapped in this gilded cage, the one she put herself in.

Immediately she starts working on the million laces holding her dress up, and out of the corner of her eye, notices a vase on her bedside table. Looking at it closer, she sees that it is a small vase full of Spinebarrels. She takes a sharp breath, and with the back of her knuckle, gently brushes the small flowers of the plant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super pumped by the Last Jedi so I will spell check this later, but I hope you all enjoy this! I'll have more free time soon so I hope to update this fairly soon :)


	2. Chapter 2

She can’t sleep. Adrenaline keeps her up, along with the cold night air and lingering feel of the Spinebarrels against her knuckles. She stares at the small pot, nibbling her lip between her teeth, uncertain about the stomach ache lingering in the bottom of her gut.

She is tired, incredibly so. She thinks she has been tired since arriving on Ahch-To, Luke throwing his own lightsaber into the wind like the whole of the Resistance did not rely on it, sleeping on the cold stone bench outside his hut. Or maybe she has been tired since Jakku, the sand shaping her bones into the woman she is now.

 _Barely a woman, now a traitor,_ the dark voice whispers to her, and she rubs at her eyes, trying to banish it to silence.

She rises from her bed, the sheets till cold although it must have been hours since she slithered beneath them, and she stretches her joints, sore from the lack of sleep, sheets imprinted upon her skin.

It only takes her a moment to slip into her old climbing gear. She did not have much to bring with her to First Order capital, but Ben allowed her to keep the staff that, somehow, survived everything she has battled. Luke’s lightsaber, she is not so certain. It fits perfectly in the grooves of her hands, and thinks for a moment to ask Finn to join her for some late-night training.

She lets the thought go, knowing that Rose will need him the most now, hope seemingly lost in these darkest hours. But the moon is bright, and so she leaves her rooms, still uncertain about the exact location of the training grounds in the vast, empty maze that is her new home.

She is uncertain of much now – uncertain the most of her influence on the young Supreme Leader. She is sad that her and Rose could not be acquainted more before the uneasy surrender of the rebellion. She is quick – fast thinking with a huge heart, one that has captured her the love of her best friend, and the few words they briefly shared comes back to Rey now.

 _You’re a fool,_ Rose had said, not out of anger, her voice sullen and defeated, _A well-meaning fool, but a fool. There’s nothing that gets between the Order and their goals. Their ruler. Nothing._

Rey hopes it is not true, that the glimpse she saw in Ben’s soul – a connection that not even Snoke could imitate – is still there, that she can find it again.

But, despite all of the uncertainty, the one thing she _is_ certain of is that she will never feel at home in this place, on this planet, chained to the palace of the Supreme Leader as the galaxy passes by around her.

Despite not finding the training grounds, the hallways all starting to blend together into one, the walk and her thoughts make her tired, her mind exhausted, no peace to be found anywhere.

“… By tomorrow afternoon, we should have the system under the First Order. And then from there…” She hears distantly, the voice familiar. It sounds almost like General Hux, the man’s voice always causes the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on edge.

Alert once more, she approaches the direction of the voice, her hand trailing against the stone wall, curious as to why the man is coordinating battle movements in the middle of the night.

And then, through the open door of the empty conference room, she sees why, Ben standing beside the man as they look at holographic schematics spread out before them. Ben is pensive, and she can see from the entrance to the room that he is biting the inside of his cheek, face stiff in concentration. She can see Leia in him then, the way he stands like a Prince would, in subtle power.

“I’ll be joining the squadron there. It will be easy to choose a new home planet if I can see which ones will be suitable.”

Hux scoffs, “What is the point of finding a new home base? This one is perfectly fine, fully loaded, it is clear that the First Order rules with elegance from here.”

“From the Outer Rim? How do we plan to bring a galaxy to our heel if we are ruling away from all of our citizens? It’s ridiculous. Our resources are running low as it is.”

Hux’s mouth twitches in irritation, “It will not go well with morale.”

“ _Fine,_ I do not like it here and so we shall move. Is it not enough to please your Supreme Leader?”

“This is the first I am hearing about any complaints, Supreme Leader. But, all of that will not matter once we conquer the galaxy – it will be revolving around _us_ at that point.”

Ben turns to him, fists balled up on the table in front of him, “Do as I say,” his voice is cold, but full of danger.

Hux nods, irritation clear in his stiff half-bow, “I was simply trying to ease your nerves. And what of Miss… Rey?”

He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, “She will not be joining me.”

“Says who?” She says, so suddenly, so loudly, she is surprised by her own voice.

Both men turn to her, Ben’s mouth slightly agape with his teeth bared, Hux nonplussed by her sudden appearance.

“Ah, the woman of the hour.”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are _you_ doing?” she counters, more hurt than she should probably be feeling.

“Making decisions as ruler?” He raises an eyebrow, as if challenging her to question his logic.

“I find that extremely odd, considering I was not present.”

Ben laughs sharply, “And who do you think you are exactly?”

She cannot help but flinch, millions of lives in the hands of a girl with a naïve dream that she could save the First Order. She sees Ben’s face soften, but it is not enough. He turns from her, face trained on the map in front of him.

“No, truly, how do you suggest we attack the fleets of Quila? Any ideas?” Hux sneers, and Ben quickly turns to him.

“Hux-“

She chooses her words carefully, keeping the hot irritation she feels beneath her skin hidden, “I am… _hurt_. I feel betrayed,” she puffs out her chest, back straight, undaunted by the raw rage clouding Ben’s eyes, “What kind of partnership is this, Ben?”

“Did you actually believe all of that nonsense? I’m surprised,” Hux mumbles, preparing to take the agreed upon attack plans for implementation, fingers like claws curling around the various maps and routes.

They reach out with the Force at the same time, Rey to stop Hux from taking the paperwork laid before him, Kylo to begin choking the man. Rey grabs his arm, twisting it until he releases the telekinetic hold he has over the General. Hux rubs his neck in irritation, and Rey wonders how many times Ben has done this to the man.

“ _Stop_ that.”

Kylo’s lip pull into a thin, white line, and in the shortest of breaths says, “Hux, you are dismissed.”

Hux is an arrogant man, but not an idiot, and leaves the untamed aggression of his Supreme Leader to the woman standing before him. There might be smirk on his face, but Rey is too focused on the dark eyes of her now husband.

They stare at each other, their breath coming short and fast. Ben opens his mouth, closes it again, lost for words for once.

“Anything – do you have anything to say?” Rey taunts, hurt and exhaustion seeping into her words. Ben turns from her, trying to collect himself, find something to say, but she beats him to it, unrelenting.

“Maybe I should be talking to General Hux,” Rey grits through her teeth, “He may hate me, but his intentions are clear in that regard.”

“Is that how you feel?”

“I feel like a figurehead being paraded around because I have a connection that I did _not_ ask for,” she exclaims, poking him in the chest lightly, “You said we would be partners. Are you a liar, Ben Solo?”

He grabs her hand, keeping it trapped within his larger one.

“I do not – I cannot feel the connection,” he says bluntly, eyes intent on her own.

She feels it too, a weakening in the connection keeping them together, tying their minds together in a bond that feels beyond the power of the Force.

“That is not the point –“

“You are not simply a figurehead,” he says quickly in a whisper, searching her face as if waiting for the connection between them to suddenly be back, to feel pulling of her Force in the back of his mind.

Rey pulls her hand from his grip, her voice soft and disappointed, “You are a terrible liar, Ben Solo. When do meetings begin tomorrow?”

“…At the rise of dawn.”

“I will be there,” she says, turning from him, leaving him standing there with his hand outstretched to her.

\--

Ben closes the door to his office softly behind them. Rey is surprised by it – it is dark, red and black throughout, the standard colors of the Order, the dark Force, but it is small and simple. A desk in the middle, a few chairs, and little else.

The meeting was a disaster, the majority of planetary leaders present not yet the former allies of the rebels, their peace treaties with the Order still not signed, many not knowing the fate of their rebel allies. There stood true supporters of the Order, hungry for power and wealth, and Rey’s egalitarian pleas fell of deaf ears. She remembers clearly Ben’s ungloved hands and the small crescent shaped indents on his palm the only indication of his hidden rage. The blood was red and sickly against his pale skin.

She had been little more than an interesting distraction for the leaders deciding the fate of the galaxy, an embarrassment to the Supreme Leader. But none of them dared speak, the Force clear in _both_ the rulers of the First Order.

She did not care about any of that. She spoke her worth, and if that meant at least one leader would hear her, then so be it.

Ben turns to her, not looking at her face, body surprisingly relaxed as she approaches her.

“You know _nothing_ about politics.” He says.

Rey forces him to meet her gaze, her eyes intent, bodies so close together that she seems him hesitate for a moment.

“Fine, then teach me.”

He turns away from her, rubbing his chin with the palm of his hand. She can feel it – his distrust, the way he is uncertain of her power, what she can do with the knowledge to sway politicians and world rulers.

“Will you join me, scouting out the system?” He asks instead.

She is thrown off guard, but her answer is immediate, “Yes, of course I will,” when he does not say more, she dares to continue, “You are incredibly difficult to talk to, you understand that?”

She is surprised to see him turn around, a smirk on his face that stretches the scar tight against his skin, and she feels her stomach flip, the look foreign and new.

“Does it make me mysterious?”

At that, Rey actually laughs, Ben’s eyes bright at the sound.

\--

It is easy to accept Leia’s invitation to tea. The soldiers leave the retired rebel leader to her peace, her and Rey the only stakeholders they have to claim control to the rest of the rebel-allied Republic planets and systems, and Ben refuses to be in the same wing of the palace as her. They both know why she is there, and Leia is prepared as Rey sits down, paper and pen in hand.

Leia smirks, “That’s cute.”

Rey looks down at the utensils in her hands, and shrugs, “I thought it would help me keep track.”

“You’re a princess now – you can have people do that for you,” and Leia laughs, sarcastic and full of the self-awareness that she was also once in Rey’s exact position. That she would bring her own paper and pencil to the fight.

She sobers quickly, “This won’t be quick. Or easy. Democratic politics are sticky enough – you’re fighting an empire from the inside out, with all of the dirt they can throw at you. You need to know every nook and cranny if you plan to get out of here alive,” she winks.

Rey nods her head, full of the determination that she puts into everything she does, “I understand.”

Leia smiles, genuine, and takes a sip of her tea, “I know you do. Remember – there are many ways to fight a war.”

Rey contemplates a moment, and then says, “I think he doesn’t trust me. He thinks that… if I could, I’d – I don’t know, usurp him?”

Leia nods, “Yup, all signs of the darkness – jealousy, mistrust, anger.”

“Almost like he doesn’t want to, but –“ She comes to a realization, Leia voicing it before she can.

“But like there’s a tiny voice in the back of his head, telling him all of this stuff?” Rey nods, and they share a look of understanding.

“Like I said, many ways to fight a war, my dear.”

\--

There is a knock on her door late at night, and Rey is unsurprised to see it is Ben, out of the formal attire he usually dons, in a simple tunic and pants.

“May I come in?”

She hesitates a moment, before letting him in.

_He doesn’t trust you. He is here to seduce you, use you and your power._

He enters her room awkwardly, looking around at the changes she has already made – removing the dark, heavy drapes from the windows, letting the light from the slowly setting sun in, bed sheets made up from scrapes and pieces of the last of the rebel’s supplies, Spinebarrels still on her bedside stand, more wilted but still thriving.

He nods to them, “I hope it wasn’t too forward of me, but… a small piece of home,” he finishes.

Rey snorts, “I do not have the best memories from Jakku but… yes, a small piece of home. Thank you.”

He nods again, standing in the middle of her room, looking incredibly uncertain of himself.

“Is there something you wanted to speak to me about?”

“Oh, not necessarily,” he replies, “Do you mind if I -?” he points to the chair and couch in the corner of her room, draped again in the robes of the rebellion.

This time she nods, moving to join him.

_Yes, keep an eye on him, do not let your guard down._

Instead of the reprimand or callous words she is expecting, the dark still pulling heavily on Ben’s heart, he asks instead, “How was your day?”

Rey rubs her palms against her knees, looking anywhere but the intense look in Ben’s eyes, “It was… alright.” She is not sure what else to say, what else he would like to hear.

“That is good to hear.”

“And yours?”

He exhales, explaining in detail his day, the frustration, the annoyance of General Armitage Hux and others, tells of the boiling anger beneath his skin. And she listens, watching as his face contorts, hands flailing to show his complete frustration. By the end, Rey can see the tension leave him, his shoulders more relaxed, leaning back into the chair with an ease she has not seen before.

Suddenly finding himself again, he stands, startling Rey from their easy silence.

“Sorry,” he says, and she can see red dusting his cheeks.

He goes to the door of her bedroom, looking to escape, but before he leaves, he again kisses the ring against her finger, metal not as cold as it once was.


	3. Chapter 3

When she is not studying with Leia, in-between minor trade deals and planet takeovers, she is training, honing the dull, dangerous skill of the Force within her, trying to finish what Luke had began.

She trains in the evenings, when soldiers are not so keen to practice their shooting skills and the grounds are relatively quiet. With no lightsaber she trains with her staff, the dummies of the field feeling the dull _whack_ of it against their torsos and heads.

She doesn’t know how to focus the raw power within her, the balance of the light and the dark fighting within her body against her will, but nevertheless she tries. Keeps her skills sharp and her mind alert.

Sometimes, she imagines Luke there with her, his appraising eyes, and it makes her try all the harder, reaching out with the Force to manipulate shooting targets and her own staff, flinging it across the yard and back into her hand with a precision that frightens and calms her at the same time.

Finn trains with her occasionally, lives calm enough to swap stories and share jokes and laugh, and in those exchanges Rey feels a thin ray of hope through the darkening sky above them.

 _Naïve child,_ the tiny voice in her head says, but she ignores it, as much as she can, channels the energy she feels into blocking and dodging Finn’s attacks.

“This isn’t so different than when I was a soldier,” Finn says, “Well, besides of course the fact that you’ll get us through all of this. And that I feel like a captain with all these fancy new digs. The old FN-2187 would’ve been drooling over this back in the day.”

She is most startled when, one evening with the air particularly cold, Rose joins Finn in her training exercises. The woman watches them first from the sidelines, her thumb and finger rubbing against the charm around her neck, until Finn is heaving for breath, Rey too, their skin slick with sweat.

“Just – give me a minute,” Rey says, the darkness creeping into her thoughts particularly strong. She hopes it is not getting worse, that she is getting stronger against the rising force that encapsulated Ben.

She bends over, hands on her knees, collecting herself, and Rose approaches Finn to make sure he is okay, her eyes soft as she cups his chin between her hands.

“…Mind if I try it out?” Rose says, and it takes a moment for Rey to register her words.

“Yes, of course,” she replies, almost immediately, surprised and glad to see Rose smile, eyes bright.

Her style is much different than Finn’s, more fluent and less aggressive, less that of a solider and more of a craftsman at her work, and it keeps Rey on her toes, the mugginess of the darkness in her mind clearing with Rose’s energy.

By the end, they are both panting, Rey with an aching in her bones that makes her feel light, content. Finn’s mouth is slightly open, and Rose smiles brightly at him in response.

“That was,” Rey says, still trying to find her breath, “Good. Really, really good.”

Rose shrugs, “There isn’t much to do here. Most of the reading is Order propaganda.”

She kisses Finn, sending him off to find dinner as the two women lean against one of the outdoor veranda’s balustrades, overlooking the training grounds they just occupied. The wind is cool against their skin, steadying their still adrenaline-paced hearts, and Rey finds solace in Rose’s presence.

“How are you doing?” Rose asks.

Rey swallows, “I feel like I should be asking you that.”

Rose laughs, short, before continuing, “I’m doing as well as anybody else. We’re all trying to – I don’t know, find our place here. It feels like limbo, like we don’t know what to expect. But we’re the rebellion, we’re getting through this, like we always do. No – how are _you_ doing? Finn explained to me how this whole Force thing works but…”

“It’s hard. It speaks to you, like the worst of enemies. Like it wants to bring you down from the inside out. But I’m trying to fight it, and when the morning comes it doesn’t seem so bad. It’s… hard to explain.”

They stand in silence for a moment, breathing in the cold evening air.

“If you can fight it, then so can Kylo,” Rose finally says, quietly, as if sharing a secret with Rey, and in that moment, she feels it.

A change in the Force, the hope of the light, whatever it is, it makes her stand a little straighter.

\--

“You and Ben are leaving soon, yes?” Leia asks, eyeglasses on as she reads through another report Rey brought her, making notes as she reads along.

“Within the fortnight,” Rey replies, also labouring over her own paperwork, “He’s still being vague about the exact details, but he’s told me which system and planets, and what discussions to expect.”

Leia raises an eyebrow, “And how did you get him to share _that_ information?”

Rey lowers the paperwork, thinking about it only a moment before answering, “I’ve been talking to him. Listening to him. I think he’s needed it. Someone to talk to, someone to listen. From what I understand Snoke was not the… kindest of masters,” at Leia’s sour face, Rey digresses, “It’s easier, when I can understand what’s going on through his head, more than what the Force bond can show me,” she does not tell Leia about how she cannot feel it as strongly as she once did, “And I believe the feeling is mutual.”

Leia nods, “That’s an interesting hypothesis.”

“It’s been nice,” Rey admits, and at her words, she feels it, the tingling at the tips of her fingers that comes before her and Ben become connected through their bond.

But, instead of seeing him stand before her like she usually does, she feels his thoughts rush through her head, like a wisp of what he is thinking, a mere moment caught between their usual meetings. And she wonders if in turn, he hears the thoughts running through her head.

“Whatever you’re doing, keep it up,” Leia says, pulling Rey from her thoughts, from the small spark she felt in their shared connection.

\--

He visits her, when the moon is high and the palace dark, as is their new routine. She opens her door readily to him, and in return he gives her rare smiles that make her question the true purpose of their marriage.

All she wants is to peel back the layers of Ben’s mind, to understand what lies behind the angry façade of the Supreme Leader. But for now, she settles for this, for this haven she can provide him from Hux’s sneering glare, the thousands of faceless soldiers that look to him for galactic domination.

Because, perhaps this way, she can find the light hiding away in the man before her, gentle in his demeanor although he rarely shows it.

Because, perhaps this way, she will see the Ben Solo from her vision, his kind eyes and carefree smile that calls to her soul in a way nothing has before this, not even the Force flowing through her veins.

They share their day, nibbling from the small plate of food that rests between the chair Ben sits in and Rey’s small couch. She asks questions that subtly hint at the political makings of the Order, their values and system, as she usually does, and Ben pretends not to notice, answering her questions openly, somewhere in his heart glad to share with her the unpleasant underbelly that holds his empire together.

 They share silence, not unpleasant, and in that moment Rey feels that tingling again, the edge of the energy that has tied them together flickering into her consciousness, and she wonders what it is doing here now, in this quiet moment.

She turns to Ben, sees in his concentrated face that he feels it too, as if he is searching for something within the corners of her mind. She feels him there, probing into her mind, and wonders if she should let him in, show him the trust he so seeks, or if she should push back, find the secrets wandering in his mind.

Before she can decide, the energy rips through her skull lightning fast, so quick that it makes her grab her head with the sudden pain, a gasp escaping her, breath short from the suddenness.

She saw it there, in that moment, a light burning so bright that it blinds her, and the source of it sits across from her, his palm pressed heavily against his forehead. He swallows heavily, pupils blown wide, and the hungry look on his face makes her cheeks burn, although neither of them move.

Ben speaks first, “I see it. The darkness within you. It’s… _strong,”_ the word rolls heavily against his tongue, “Why do you fight it? H- how do you fight it?” He corrects, voice soft.

“Why do you fight the light within you? I feel it in you too, how strong it is. Why do you bend yourself to the dark?” Because the dark did not shape him, she knows, it forced him to its will, “What does it entice you that the light does not?”

She sees his neck bob as he swallows, the sweat pooling against his brow. She feels it too, the electric energy between them, the force fighting against the dark and light, between them, in the small space they share.

“For reasons you cannot understand,” Ben says, “For reasons you don’t want to hear.”

Rey exhales, her eyes trained on his, the guarded expression on his face, “I feel it in the back of my mind, all the time it’s there, like a little pest I can’t get rid of. The darkness in my mind – it calls to me, makes me question my trust and my actions. It’s _there,”_ Ben’s expression softens, in understanding at her confession, Rey thinks, “We’re more alike than we would both like to admit, Ben.”

And in that moment, she sees Ben’s face crumple, and her mind is flooded with the feeling, more than the image, of deep regret that accompanies his father’s dying face, so intense and horrible that it makes her eyes prick with tears, flowing freely down her face as she truly _sees_ Ben Solo.

She can feel how scared he is, how this regret makes him panic in his own skin, the thoughts lingering in his mind and festering, deep and wounded and all he wants to do is forget, find solace in the dark that Luke and the Force and Snoke all stoked inside of him.

And as soon as it comes to her, it passes, Ben rising from his seat so his face is hidden from her eyes, but even as he leaves, she feels a new regret – fresh, that lingers behind him as he closes the door to her rooms.

\--

She sits there, in her rooms, the hours ticking by slowly, shadows making her room look dark and cold.

Although Ben saw only a glimpse what feels like so long ago, she reaches out to him now, hoping that wherever he has hidden, she can show to him everything.

 _I regret it,_ she thinks, her thoughts clear through the power of the Force, _the memories - they make me regret ever thinking I could find them. That my hope was sound._

And she shows to him her parents, in full, what she remembers of them - their drunken laughs and their angry glares, the twitching of their hands as the alcohol moved through their systems, withdrawal making them cruel and desperate.

She remembers her pleas and cries for them to _stop, please, stop_ as they gave her away for a handful of goods and the alcohol they valued above their own daughter. She remembers, and it hurts, but now that she can, that she can choose to know her own full history –

_I do not regret it._

_I know it’s not the same. But I hope you understand._ And she does, truly.


	4. Chapter 4

They visit several planets, several systems, spanning several weeks. It is difficult, mostly because Leia is not there and Rey must fight Ben on everything that they do, from trade agreements to political strategies, to how they display themselves to the various planet’s citizens.

Dinner on the planet of Corellia – or was it something else? Rey could no longer remember, visiting planet after planet with different landscapes and even more difficult names – was stiff and awkward, the people obviously frightened by the battalion of First Order officers and their leader taking up most of the small dining hall. The servants shook as they handed out plates and took dirty ones away, and Rey tried smiling at them to ease their nerves, even if only slightly. She doubted it worked.

Although Leia was not allowed to join, for obvious reasons, Finn sit at Rey’s right, his inclusion used to bolster the citizens in knowing that some small, last piece of the Republic, no matter how absurd, was still there.

He looks at the crowd, mouth tight with frustration, before his eyes turn to Rey. He tries to smile, but it’s weak, and she returns it with the same stiffness.

Kylo – not Ben, not here – sits to her left, chewing stiffly on a piece of overcooked meat. She leans toward Finn, and quietly, as to not upset her husband, says “Thank you.” It means more, they both know. Thank you for being here, thank you for keeping Rose sane – and it goes on.

When she turns back to the crowd she sees generals whisper to each other, feels Kylo’s eyes on her. When she turns to look at him he turns away, lifting his heavy goblet and taking a deep drink of wine. Tension rolls off of him in waves.

From the back of the hall, commotion draws the attention of citizens and troopers alike. From her spot on the raised dais, Rey can see citizens fighting off troopers who drag them from the hall. Their faces are in pain, anger written into their set jaws as they are escorted from the dinner.

She sits, frozen. The hall falls silent, citizens either in shock, fear, or anger. Sometimes a mix of all three. She wants to turn to Kylo, demand an explanation, order their release, but she holds her tongue.

 _There is a time and place, but then there is also a time and place,_ Leia’s words ring in her ear, as the indignation washes over her.

She closes her eyes, tries breathing, thinking of something to _say_ but –

A chair scraps against the floor, echoing off the chamber’s cold walls. She figures it is Kylo, a speech prepared to ease the tension, or perhaps elevate, make them fear that they will never leave, choose this as their new base.

But instead it is Finn who stands, features tight with nerves. He raises his glass, unsteadily, and as he begins speaking – speaking of trust, stories, his experiences while visiting – the room relaxes, and so does he, laughing and smiling. Rey even feels a tiny smile pulling at her cheeks.

When he goes back to sit the room, still hesitant, claps, and then cheers, and soon the cold remains of dinner are taken away and a band – foreign but pleasant to the ear – begins, drinks passed around, for a moment the rest forgotten.

She turns to Kylo, but he is already leaving his place at the head of the table, downing the rest of his drink. Rey notices the way his throat bobs, almost viciously, as he drinks. He slams it, empty, back onto the table, before stalking off into the crowd. She sits there a moment more, before she feels Finn’s hand on her shoulder.

“You were amazing” she says.

“I can’t believe I did that,” his voice is incredulous, and when she turns his eyes are wide, pupils huge.

“I wish Rose was here to see that.”

“If Rose was here, there would be a lot more Imperial troops clutching their balls in pain at the moment.”

She laughs.

\--

It is not until the moons are high in the sky and the dinner is winding to a close, the band slowly losing its members one by one, that she finally finds him.

A balcony, humid from the grounds below, green and wild and beautiful. He is partially slumped over it, and she is worried that he may have fallen asleep, but as she approaches he turns to her, slightly, and seeing who it is, takes another drink from the half-full bottle in his hand.

 _Fun night,_ she wants to say, _Must have drained all of the reserves, huh?_

But instead, she blurts, “Why are we doing this?”

“Hm?” He groans, his brows pulled together.

She hisses through her teeth, an unknown anger surging through her, and she tries to contain it, “Why – _why_ were those people taken away, during dinner? What, to show how powerful we” – w _e_ – “are? To show them how things are going to be from now on?”

He looks blearily at her, “I don’t know everything that’s – going on here. All the time.”

“Oh, then why are we here? Why are we scaring people into submission? For a new home base? And what good will that do?”

Her words bounce off the hot air of the night, and he is left looking at her, and perhaps behind the alcohol there is sadness, but Rey doesn’t think she would be able to recognize it on him, even if it was there.

“You’re not happy – I can see it. You deserve someplace where you can…” he thinks hard, for a moment, waving his arm and the bottle in his hand widely against the lush forest beneath them, “You can be happy.”

His words stun her, shock her, and she feels a well of emotions bubble up to her lips. She should be flattered, she thinks, but all she feels instead is sorrow, that he would destroy so much for so little, “Why?” Is all she can muster.

“I’m doing this for you.”

“I don’t _want –“_

“ _I_ want to do this for you,” he swallows heavily, “I would fight the entire galaxy to be by your side,” he admits. She can smell the alcohol on his breath, sees the unsteadiness in his eyes.

She turns away, stamps down the hope that seems to bloom in her chest, completely unrelated to the fate of the galaxy and the rebels and all the people here, dancing to fight away the fear of their home being taken from right under them.

“You’re drunk,” is her reply, and she walks back into the party.

 _Bitch,_ says the little voice in her head, that sounds a little too much like herself.

 _I’m sorry,_ says another.

\--

She closes the door to her room, sliding down against the cold metal of it. She sits there a moment, tired and drained. She spoke with Finn about Ben’s words, but he didn’t have an answer, looked surprised even, leaving both of them lost and confused.

The drapes of her window billow with the warm wind, and she stares at their mesmerizing pattern for a moment.

“Are you done moping?” Someone says, and she jumps, scrambling to her feet and turning to where the voice is coming from, the balcony afforded to her.

Translucent, Luke stands in front of her, arms crossed, eyes dark and serious.

He raises an eyebrow, “So, take it you’re done?”

“I wasn’t moping,” says Rey, rubbing her temple. She isn’t surprised, she’s been feeling him prodding at her mind, at the Force within her.

“Ah, well, that’s good then. Because I can’t seem to figure out how your plan is supposed to work, in the end,” he waves his hands at the opulence around him, at the fine drapery and

Rey smiles, “That’s funny, I thought you, of all people, would be able to figure it out by now,” Luke sobers at her words, and she leans against the wall, “I’m sorry I – I know you don’t like this. I can feel it.”

“I didn’t expect you to come seek Jedi training, just to surrender,” he says it quietly, but there is a sharp edge to his voice.

“This isn’t surrendering, this is far from surrendering –“

“Is it?” He is pushing, on purpose, for a reason. Rey can feel him at the corner of her mind, pressing against her forehead.

She grits her teeth, “Yes, it is. I’m doing this so Ben doesn’t destroy half the galaxy to kill me and you.”

He lets go. He looks down, around at her room, turns towards the balcony. He leans against it, taking a deep breath of the night air, slowly turning into morning. Rey wonders if he can feel it, taste the humidity and spice on the air.

“I can turn him back to the light, without any bloodshed,” she says, and her words are so sincere Luke is almost convinced.

Instead, he turns and smiles at her, “I used to be that kid. I used to believe that I could save the day without having to use that,” he points to the lightsaber sitting on a nightstand that is not her own.

“And what changed?”

He thinks for a moment, “I feel like, you might not necessarily have more invested in this than I did,” he looks at her pointedly in the eyes, “But in a different way. A way that makes saving Solo that much more important.”

He begins to fade, his body becoming even more effervescent, yet before he does, a stern look on his face, but one that might still hold some of that boyish hope he once had, appears and he says “I’m not done with you yet.”

And all Rey can think about is, that Luke called him Solo.

\--

Rey runs down the halls, still in her outfit from the evening before, the very early morning shrouded in mist and dew. It does not take long for her to find Ben’s chamber – she can feel him at the corner of her consciousness, his drunk state seeping into her mind. She can almost feel the hangover he will have when she wakes him up.

His door is unlocked, and it opens without a whisper of sound. She has never come to his rooms before, never bothered, always too timid to come to him and speak her mind, his anger real and daunting. Now, it seems no bother at all. It would not matter anyway, as he’s passed out in a chair in front of his bed, neck curved at an odd angle. She wastes no time, stands before him and shakes at his shoulders until he uneasily wakes up.

He woozily looks around, clutches his head, and she says, “Ben.”

Realizing she is here, he tries straightening in his chair, a groan easing out of him. Her eyes are bright, and he tries to put himself together.

“Yes?”

She licks her lips, and he follows the movement, “What you said last night, is it true?”

“What I –“ he thinks, recalls the moment she is talking about, and recoils. She sees him closing in on himself as he says, “I was drunk. The whole world does not revolve around you.”

She puts her hand on his arm, seeks his eyes, “But in the moment – even if only in the moment – was what you said true?”

He says nothing, stares off to some point behind her instead.

“Did you ever bother asking, what would make me happy? Because this is not the answer,” she breaths, heavily, collecting herself. She kneels at his side, and he tries moving away but she takes his hand in hers before he can, “Do you know what would make me happy? Do you want to know? It’s this – having these people safe and happy and _free_ would make me happy. Not having them dragged off as we leech off of their rulers would make me happy. Being near Finn and Rose and those that – care, for me, makes me happy. This does not make me happy,” she ends in a whisper, feels the nagging, dark voice in the back of her head quiet as she stares at Ben, does not stand down.

For once, she does not feel his anger, feel the stress rolling off of him. It might, after all, be the alcohol, but he does not say anything, and holds her hand in his, and if she didn’t know any better, begins to drift off again to sleep in that uncomfortable chair.

She doesn’t say what’s on her mind, what would make her happiest of all, although they both know. And the fact that, deep down he knows, gives her hope.

But then again, she wonders if she _does_ truly know, herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, incredibly sorry about such a long delay. It has been a really stressful last couple months for me but I am (hopefully) getting back into my groove - that being said, I hope that this chapter does not disappoint! I want to keep the action at a slower pace, but still keep it moving fairly consistently, so I hope it came out that way!  
> Thank you all so much for sticking around! I promise next chapter will be shorter than 6 months away lol


	5. Chapter 5

His eyes are taunt the next morning, brows knit together from hangover and from Rey. She sits across from him, staring out onto the long green trees below.

“You’re chipper,” he grumbles, and she smirks, but before she can catch his eyes he turns away.

“It’s a beautiful morning,” and he thinks she is being sarcastic, that it is beautiful because they are not actively ruining another planet’s culture.

They do not talk about last night, about her sudden intrusion, his silent acquiesce, and he curses himself that her words have such sway over him, mind and body. She is the one he is supposed the turning, and he almost breaks the cup in his hand from his frustration.

He swallows, heavily, the coffee burning down his throat. It keeps him alert, wipes away silly notions from his mind. But he feels an ache deep in his chest when he sees her so calm – so much more peaceful than she ever was back in the cold, stone palace he had put her in – and that he must ruin this small truce, and the feel of her hands on his.

“Last night,” she nods, and it is almost regal, “I’m surprised you have suddenly become so… brash,” he knows his reputation, has used it to the best that he can.

This time he does not look away when her neck snaps so she can look at him, at the determined look that causes him to stir uncomfortably in his chair.

“I had good reason.”

He nods, but persists. He _feels_ it, knows the feel of his old master’s force from anywhere.

“A sudden burst of inspiration, perhaps?” His words are careful, but caustic, and he sees recognition flash in her eyes, sees her defenses curl around her as she straightens her back. It is not anger, no, he sees that same stubbornness that has become routine, that he has seen since their first meeting.

He wishes – no, it doesn’t matter.

“Yes, and?”

“I told you about Skywalker. About what –“ he pauses, catches himself before emotions come bubbling up, unbidden, “And yet you still disrespect me so,” he fiddles with the wedding ring on his hand as he looks away.

He does not mean to make it personal, only to berate her, to make her see her foolishness, but it spurs her on if nothing else.

“Ben,” the way she says his name sends shivers up his spin, a private thing, “Luke did not mean to-“

Anger fills his gut in a hot flash, and he rises from his seat, the chair tumbling to the floor with a loud crash. Rey does not blink, matches his stance despite being shorter than him, his form hulking over her.

“Do not _dare_ defend his actions.”

“I am not – I would never,” she, takes a step towards him, their bodies close now, and yet she does not touch him. He is a weak man, he knows, “This is about you. Look at yourself, Ben, Luke has caused you so much pain – would it not be better to let it go, to finally feel peace? If only for yourself.”

He does not respond, stares her down, feeling her at the corners of his mind, prodding him. He pushes her away, and feels her gasp when instead, he is the one pushing into her thoughts, the darkness of his strength making her close her eyes in pain.

She resists, slightly, and then allows him in, and he sees Skywalker there – the smirk that sets his blood boiling, and then – he called him Ben.

He pulls back, looks at her, watches carefully as she collects herself.

“You could just ask next time,” she quips, half-serious and half in jest.

He raises an eyebrow, “Where is the fun in that?”

She laughs, short and quick, before she sobers again, and he does as well.

She outstretches her hand to him, and swallows thickly, “Please, let me?”

She hopes he understands, sees his hesitation, before he allows her to cup his chin in her hands, his eyes closed in concentration, brow furrowed. And she allows him to see everything – the scene Luke played out for her, his regrets, his self-isolation.

Once she is finished, he pulls back, slowly, and she savors the feel of his slightly scruffy skin.

“This does not change anything,” he says, darkly.

“I do not expect you to forgive Luke,” she swallows thickly, and he watches her throat bob, her every move a distraction, dangerous, “But give yourself peace, Ben.”

When he does not say thing, she again puts her hand on his cheek, cups it gently.

“Trust me. I trust you, to my core, because I know in the end you will make the right decision,” she says.

Because she saw it – last night, no matter how small the gesture, his hand warm and large taking hers – and absently blesses alcohol in a twisted sort of imitation of courage. It meant so much more than the kiss, the flowers, she knows.

~~

They leave the planet the next evening, their campaign coming to an end soon. She is grateful for it, and so is Finn, she can see. He misses Rose, as he has told every night since leaving her, and she does not blame him for it.

She misses Leia, her guidance, her steady hand. She hopes that the princess will be proud of her, of standing her ground, of fighting for what she believes in, what she wants.

She blushes at the thought, but keeps it to herself, allowing Finn to talk, her silently listening at his side.

“Did you hear?” he says suddenly, almost interrupting himself in the middle of one of his stories, “Apparently there will be no new conquests for the First Order on this trip.”

“What – what do you mean? Where did you hear that?” She finds it almost silly, that Kylo would come all this way for nothing at all. But she feels pride swell in her chest all the same.

Finn shrugs, “The soldiers like to talk. Sounds like it’ll be trade deals and negotiations, rather than the ‘We’ll kill you all and take your planet too’ we’re so used to from the Order,” he says, almost sarcastically.

“Strange,” Rey replies, voice distant.

“I agree. Wonder what this was all about, in the end.”

She shrugs in turn, watching the green planet that, despite everything, she had enjoyed so much disappear into the distance, its humid jungles and warm people already a memory.

Her head spins, Finn humming to an old Resistance song, as they head back to their fates.


End file.
